


Trica

by murdergatsby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Bathroom Sex, Begging, Bottom Will, Dom Hannibal, General Filthy-ness, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mirror Sex, No Lube, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex, Possessive Will, Post-The Wrath of the Lamb, Rough Sex, Smut, Spit As Lube, Teasing, Top Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7882909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/pseuds/murdergatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is shaving is head to blend in. Hannibal expresses that he’ll miss it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trica

**Author's Note:**

> All [@IsHannibalOnYet](https://twitter.com/IsHannibalOnYet) said was “I miss that hair ;_;” about a BTS picture of Hugh in full make-up for his Post Getting-Thrown-Off-A-Train Look.  
> And all this?  
> Just happened.
> 
> I'll be sure to repent, later.
> 
> ALSO: Spit is not lube. Please use lube for anal sex. I'm just lazy and didn't want to write it in, because this is fiction and they only damage themselves if I want them to. IRL, you can really hurt someone (or yourself) like this. And not in the possibly fun way. Okay? Okay.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

“I’ll miss the hair.”

The comment was mumbled as if he didn’t mean for Will to catch it. But he said it, so of course he did.

Hannibal was seated on the edge of the motel tub with his back leaned against the poorly plastered wall. Will was across from him, bent over the sink and eyeballing his aforementioned hair. It had grown thick during their recovery, and full. Hannibal had commented before how soft it was, and how he liked how the curls wrapped around his fingers as if they were made to do so.

And now, Will was ready to shave it all off in the name of _blending_.

Hannibal has changed his appearance too, but not by much. His wardrobe was now more suited for someone with a more casual taste: Button-ups made of cotton and darkly colored jeans. Will had innocently suggested he put work in on a beard, too, and by the current look of shadowed jaw it seemed as if he had taken that to heart.

At the moment both men only wore their underwear, which had the same taste as they always had: Will in cotton, white- Hannibal in blue, satin.

“What was that?” Will asked, even though he had heard him clearly. He didn’t turn to Hannibal, but instead watched him in the mirror. He followed the lines of the reflection of his body with obvious intent.

“I’ll miss the hair.” Hannibal repeated in a slower and louder tone of voice. He smirked. He liked being able to watch Will observe him like this.

Will looked at the electric razor he had waiting for him on the counter, and then back to Hannibal. A smile grew on his face.

“Then, you should probably say goodbye.”

Hannibal got up and moved to his place behind Will with a fluid gracefulness typically only found in wild cats. He brought his hand up between Will’s shoulder-blades and up the nape of his neck. He combed at his hair and eyed it like it was made of gold.

Will continued to watch him in only the mirror. He rolled his shoulders back and pushed himself into Hannibal, grinding his ass back on Hannibal’s groin. He parted his lips in a silent moan and waited for Hannibal to stop playing.

Hannibal beamed and made eye contact with Will’s reflection. “That kind of goodbye?” He asked.

Will nodded. “Please?”

Hannibal fisted his hand Will’s hair, pulling back on his grip until Will’s head came back at an angle. He kissed at Will’s shoulder, and at the curve of his neck. With his free hand he felt down Will’s stomach, before diving below the elastic of his boxers and palming at Will’s hardening cock.

Will moaned loudly; _Thankful_ was the word Hannibal was drawn to use to describe the vocal activity of Will in bed. Any sound that wanted to make its way into the room, Will allowed. He wanted anyone who was the sharing this motel building with them to know that Hannibal was about to claim him. Regardless of the fact that Hannibal had already _claimed_ him once last night, and he had done claiming of his own that morning- he needed everyone to know that he belonged to Hannibal, and Hannibal belonged to him.

When Hannibal decided that Will was hard enough for his needs, he removed his hand from his cock and lead two of his fingers to Will’s lips. Will sucked them in and wetted them for him, all while intensifying the way he ground himself back. He could feel that Hannibal was fully erect and still so very composed.

Without warning, Hannibal snapped Will’s head forward and down, still controlling him by his hair. He barely gave himself time to remove his fingers from Will’s mouth.

Will winced as his body hit the counter, and groaned along with the dull pain of it. Hannibal pulled Will’s boxers down the round of his ass and slipped a finger into him in with the same suddenness. Will adapted with a hiss as he tried to let his body to relax against Hannibal’s intrusion.

Hannibal allowed Will all the time he needed to adjust, keeping the thrill of the moment up with un-patterned pulling of Will’s hair and inconsistent stroking at his prostate. Will was left whimpering Hannibal’s name into the counter top, bucking back and laughing at his own need for this.

The front of Will boxers were soaked through with pre-come as Hannibal took the time to work a third finger into him. He knew Hannibal could smell how badly he wanted this, and was prolonging it for that very reason.

“Please.” Will pleaded. He knew he was close to coming and he didn’t want to come like this.

Hannibal hummed to himself. He removed his fingers slowly and watched Will tremble due to his abandonment. Finally, he flipped the elastic of his own boxers down under his balls. He pressed the head of his cock against Will’s ass, but didn’t push into him.

Will crunched his toes against the floor and tried to push back on him. Hannibal held his head firmly, not allowing him to spear himself until Hannibal felt he had waited enough.

“Please.” Will gasped. “Please. _Please_.”

Hannibal traced Will’s hole with the head of his cock as someone would trace circles with their fingers on their desk from boredom. “Yes, Will?” Hannibal said. His tone would have been innocent if not for the situation. “What is it you want?”

Will turned his face fully into the counter and laughed again. “Hannibal,” He said, calling him an asshole in his mind. “ _Please_.”

Hannibal watched Will for a while, switching between his view in the mirror and the stretch of sweat-dampened skin in front of him. He lifted Will’s head and pulled him back with one rough motion. Hannibal made Will take him to his base, and Will screamed.

Each time Hannibal pulled his hips back, he brought Will forward, and each time he thrusted back into him, he pulled Will back. Every motion Will made was dictated by the way Hannibal was pulling his hair, and the pleasure from it he was feeling made it hard to even keep his eyes open.

Will fought to keep his eyes on their reflection. His body shuttered each time he was successful, so such so that Hannibal could feel it and was forced to moan along with it.

When Hannibal was sure of the cause, he pulled Will’s head up so that he physically couldn’t look away. He worked his free hand back down the front of Will’s body, taking time to tease at the fading laceration that resided on his stomach.

“Do you like the way I make you look?” Hannibal asked, now caught in the same obsession with Will’s reflection that Will had been earlier. He slipped his hand beneath Will’s boxers once more. He dropped them further down Will's thighs until they fell freely to the floor, then began the stroke him out in short, quick movements that kept up with the rhythm of his hips.

Will moaned with a dropped jaw. His eyes shut and Hannibal jerked his head back to remind him to keep them open.

“Yes.” Will gasped. Will took one of his hands off the counter and felt down the muscles of Hannibal’s arm. “Yes, Hannibal.”

With a snarl, Hannibal pulled up on Will’s hair until Will was standing upright. He momentarily took his hand from off Will to lift his leg for him, and place it on the counter. This new angle made Will feel stretched beyond what he thought he could take, and allowed Hannibal to nail against Will’s prostate with absolute precision.

“Yes, Hannibal.” Will repeated, finally breaking his gaze from the mirror to watch the real Hannibal work on him. His head lulled back on tired neck muscles, his pupils were blown from euphoria, and his mind teetered on the edge recoverable stability.

Hannibal put his hand back in Will’s hair and forced him back to the mirror, while picking up the speed of his thrusting hips.

Will watched the dramatic rise and fall of his own chest, and the red heat filling it. His cheeks were rosy and the strands of hair that normally hung in his face were now stuck to him with sweat. He could see the muscles of Hannibal’s arms contracting as he jerked him off, and he could see the head of his cock peeking out from Hannibal's grip. He could see Hannibal watching him watch himself, with half-lidded, darkened eyes and a snarl playing on his lips every time he moaned.

 _Predator_.  

Will screamed Hannibal’s name in broken syllables as he came. Hannibal angled him so that he would spill against their reflection- the sight of which pushed Hannibal to his own climax. Hannibal’s hips locked forward as Will fell limp against him. Hannibal supported his dead weight with ease until he was done.

He released his fist of Will’s hair and kissed at the back of his shoulder. His skin felt cold against lips. When he felt he could, he helped Will down off the counter and turned him around. He helped Will back up the counter when he realized that Will couldn’t yet stand, and sat him in the sink. He positioned himself between Will’s thighs so that he could kiss him.

The kisses were wet and sloppy. They were too exhausted for anything else, but that didn’t matter. This brand of kiss had grown on Will. They meant he had been just as good for Hannibal, as Hannibal had been for him.

“You know…” Will mused. He still panted as a means of catching his breath. “I’m going to miss the hair too.”

Hannibal grinned, and laughed. “Maybe we can find a way to keep it.”


End file.
